


Of Peaches and Freedom Songs

by SG1SamFan (LemonScience33)



Series: The Gaila Shipfest [2]
Category: Sherlock (TV), Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Blindfolds, Bondage, Crossover, Crossover Pairings, Dominance, F/F, Freedom, Healing, Riding Crop, Sexual Content, past sexual slavery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-11
Updated: 2013-05-11
Packaged: 2017-12-11 12:09:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 303
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/798601
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LemonScience33/pseuds/SG1SamFan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After fifteen years of sexual slavery, Gaila swore she'd never let herself be shackled again.</p><p>And yet…</p><p>The Woman is a professional, and Gaila respects that.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Of Peaches and Freedom Songs

**Author's Note:**

  * For [makokitten](https://archiveofourown.org/users/makokitten/gifts).



> Content note: non-graphic references to past sexual slavery.
> 
> Inspired by the seduce meme on Tumblr.

After fifteen years of sexual slavery, Gaila swore she’d never let herself be shackled again.

And yet…

The Woman is a professional, and Gaila respects that.

The Woman leans over Gaila and lowers her lashes, revealing a sweep of emerald green along her lashline. “I thought I’d borrow some of your loveliness, pet,” she purrs. “Do you like it?”

Men used to call Gaila that: pet _._ It was a way of reminding her of her place as a slave, an ‘Orion animal woman.’

The way Miss Adler says _pet_ makes Gaila feel like a goddess instead of a collared _shirog_. Gaila presses her tongue to her palate to taste her mistress’s pheromones.

“I asked you a question, Lieutenant.” The crop dances sweetly up the inside of Gaila’s thigh, where she is spread open with soft restraints, waiting. “I won’t repeat myself.” Her voice is warm and sharp like a slap.

Gaila feels her nostrils flare and her lips part. “Yes, Miss Adler,” she answers.

The Woman caresses Gaila’s cheek with a perfectly manicured fingertip.

A moment later, her crop snaps against the curve of Gaila’s hip. As the sting blossoms into a deep, pleasant ache, Gaila catches a sweet scent and realizes it’s herself, beginning to bruise.

“Hmm,” Miss Adler hums. “Like a ripe peach. Shall we see what you taste like?”

Gaila closes her eyes. “Please, Miss Adler.”

For several moments the only sound is Gaila’s own quickening breathing as Miss Adler’s hand caresses her hip with care.

Then the crop comes down again on Gaila’s inner thigh, and she hears herself whimper.

“In good time, pet,” Miss Adler says.

The Woman slips a dark satin blindfold over Gaila’s eyes, and Gaila feels her mind ease even as her fibers tense in anticipation.

She is free.

The crop sings through the air.


End file.
